


The Scent of Silver

by catcusxx



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: (kinda), Angst, Before I watched past S1 just btw, F/M, He's not a heartless asshole tho (he's an asshole with a heart), Humour, Hurt/Comfort, I don't think I have a single tag which is on topic, I finally wrote romace eeee, Silver is deadly shhh, So Dereks still almost emotionless, Were-Lion, hold on, it's sorta angsty, mild swearing, pheremones, were-cat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-09-01 07:23:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16760599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catcusxx/pseuds/catcusxx
Summary: There is only one course of action you can possibly take when caught by hunters in their own backyard with a suspicious cat-woman. You kiss her, or rather, she kisses you.*Written episode by episode bc I'm too lazy to write transitions*





	The Scent of Silver

-Piolet-  
There were no obvious signs that the Argents were killers. None except for the scars on his own body and the burnt husk of his house. He knew he was in the right place though, because he could smell the silver woven into the fence and clumps of wolfsbane grew around the walls.   
Silver had a strange scent. It was repulsive and alluring all at once. It was the scent of bullets and chains and the stud that Kate had worn in her tongue. The one which had burned his mouth when she kissed him. The kind of pain he hadn't minded at the time.   
Perhaps that was the reason he couldn't concentrate. Not while the silver permeated his skin and burned his nostrils. But no. He needed to get closer.   
And then he caught sight of her, crouched on the roof top. Her silvery hair had given her away; her scent masked by the metal. He caught the glint of her eyes next. The reflective lens behind her retina made them glow eerily. They were gold. Not the kind he'd seen in werewolves but a dark pure shade. They were definitely focused on him.  
He felt his fangs pressing against his gums and his claws biting into his fingertips. It was the silver again, he supposed. In a single motion, she leapt off the roof top and landed silently in front of him, face set in a feral snarl, and her own claws glinting. He still could not catch her scent, but the tang of silver made him want to rip at her regardless.   
Her claws pricked at the skin of his throat seconds in the same motion. He could turn the tables in an instant if he wanted. She was smaller and lighter than him. He might even be faster.   
"Name." She demanded. Her voice was a snarl and matched her expression, yet it betrayed her age.   
It almost made sense. No sensible wolf would keep hair past their waist but she couldn't have been older than 20. His claws hooked upwards, tangling themselves in the long threads of silver. She winced faintly.  
Then there was a shout - one of the Argents - and she used his lapse in attention to force them into a different kind of embrace.  
"Play. Along," She hissed  
Her mouth was on his as she worried his lips and wrapped her arms around him. There was no time to run. Her fangs cut roughly into his mouth. She tore off his shirt and balled it in her fist, glancing over his shoulder and watching the guard. "My neck." She ordered him.   
He dipped his head and sucked the warm skin into his mouth. She let out a shuddering breath.  
"Shit!" She screeched when they were in view. He could hear the same strange lilt which had been in her snarl, but her voice was now high pitched and pathetic. She yanked his hands from her hair and forced him to face away. "Logan! You said no one was in this house. What the fuck!?"   
"We moved in today and if you set another foot on this property I will have you prosecuted." The hunter said, his voice a mix of resigned and amused. A couple daredevil kids sneaking onto an abandoned property. Better that then werewolves.  
The girl grabbed his hand and then scrambled over the fence, grunting as she hit the ground. He did so easier. Even without his claws the fence was low.   
Then they ran. Her footsteps were light and she was so fast that her hair streamed out behind her. It was so very impractical.   
He didn't realise he was following her until she stopped abruptly. They hadn't been running long but running had always felt infinite to him. As his heart beat faster and scenery flashed past his mind slowed down. He felt calm. The feeling had never been more contradictory and it vanished when she focused her tawny eyes onto him.   
He'd thought she was albino, but her hair might have been pale blond and her skin perhaps a little tan if the moon did not wash all colour out of her. All colour except that belonging to those unusual eyes. A car drove past and they shone and then dimmed as the headlights touched them and then faded away. He knew she was studying him even as the night became dark.   
"That was a little embarrassing," she said, "but you've gotta admit, the ungraceful scrambling over the fence really did it.  
She stepped forwards and he locked his limbs in place. Her voice was non-threatening now, but the rest of her made him uneasy. She lifted her hand and dabbed at his mouth.   
"My fangs. There's a little..."   
He could feel it. His lower lip had split twice, once on each side where he fangs had been. It should have healed but when she took her hand away, his blood glistened on her fingertips. He could still scent silver. Light bounced off her nails. She moved her face forwards, drew in a deep breath, and did not seem to like what she found  
"Wolf." She spat, as though it were an insult.   
Derek stood to leave. He knew all too well what came after someone decided they didn't like his kind. She stopped him with a well placed hand on his arm.   
"I thought you were a hunter. The silver fucked me up. You're a legacy aren't you? How many generations?"   
He couldn't get a read on her. She was strange. She looked younger than him but she knew a lot.   
"What are you?" He asked instead.   
She tilted her head to one side, baring her neck. She was comfortable around him, as if he couldn't kill her with a well placed blow. Her ease jarred him. Confidence was a sign of her strength for all overconfidence was dangerous. Something in her eyes told him it was the former.   
"I'm like you." She said, "but a little more... Feline." She threw him his shirt, torn beyond repair.   
"Show me." He demanded.   
She shrugged and shucked her clothes. A full shapeshifter, he decided, his eyes set on her face. Not an alpha though. She shot him a knowing smile. He knew to her, her nakedness was nothing. A shudder wracked her body as if she were shaking water from her skin. The sound of bones cracking was barley audible and she bore the pain with no sign. By the time she dropped neatly onto all fours she was fully transformed.   
He looked for the signs of a shapeshifter and yet found none. She had become a mountain lion seamlessly. She was larger than they would normally be and her coat was tawny, like her eyes rather than her hair. He got the feeling she was doing the feline equivalent of quirking an eye brow.   
Your turn. She was saying.   
A car drove past but didn't slow. He doubted the driver would so much as glance out the window. Humans were so caught up in their own worlds. He moved into the bush regardless. She stood on her hind legs, her form shifting again. Now she was humanoid, but her ears were tipped with silvery fur which coated her body. He couldn't help but stare contemptuously at the tail which swished behind her.  
"What?" She said, pulling her clothes back on and following him. She seemed comfortable in this half form.  
She watched his transformation with interest but he kept it up for less than a minute.   
"What's your name?" She asked him again when he was human.   
"Derek." He finally conceded. His mind was working furiously, trying to figure her out. Perhaps this was her territory. He hadn't been back for years. Once Beacon Hills had been mundane place. Quiet and peaceful. He hadn't loved it then and now it was a ghost town to him.  
"Brooke." She said. "I'd offer to shake your hand but I think our relationships past that."  
"Why are you here?" He demanded. "And why did you kiss me?"  
"To stop them from looking twice. If we ran they'd be on high alert. You did well, don't worry." She smiled, revealing straight white teeth. Her incisors could almost be fangs even when human. "You're a good kisser."   
He almost couldn't fault her but he wanted an answer to the first part of his question. She leaned a shoulder against one of the trees, absentmindedly inspecting her nails. He let his claws grow again.   
"Fine." She huffed. "I'm following the Argents."   
Her voice held a different tone now. Different to her aggressive snarl or her screech when the Argents found them. Different from the way she'd spoken before. The lilt had been present there. Humour or life or an accent. When she spoke of the Argents her voice lost that and took on a very different timbre. She spoke of the Argents emotionlessly. The kind of toneless void Derek knew hid anger and pain.   
He almost wanted to get involved.   
"Have fun with that." He said, turning away.   
"Why were you sniffing around?"   
"Why do you think?" He asked coolly.   
"Fine. Laura Hale."   
"What about her?" He asked. He'd spoken too quickly. He knew she could sense his interest.   
"I'm investigating her death." Brooke said. "She was a friend of mine. It's another strike to their list, frankly. You know her?"   
"My sister." He confirmed shortly  
"Oh. I'm sorry."   
He shot her a look which seemed to leave her in no doubt that her words meant nothing to him.   
"You want to help take down the Argents?" He asked.   
"I want to figure out who killed your sister." She said, "and right now that's looking like the same thing."   
He almost wanted it to be but his certainty was shadowed by his sister herself. He'd seen the body. The sight made him sick. It wasn't the blood, nor the entrails. He'd seen both before, too many times to count. It was her. Her death was a broken promise. An end to the peace they thought they'd found. A shattering of his mind, which had slowly been healing day by day.   
He'd been forgetting, and it had been good.   
But she'd given him the right answer. He couldn't hide from this any longer.   
"Meet me tomorrow then." He said. He'd have a plan by then. He could think straight.   
"Where are you going now?" She asked.   
"Home." He said.   
"Where's that?" She was following him now, breaking into a run when he did. His run became a sprint and yet still she followed.   
He should stop, so he didn't give away his position. He should stop because he didn't want her around when he buried Laura. Her body was on the floor now, covered in a charred sheet from the linen cupboard. He hadn't been able to bury her before, even though the hole was dug and the wolfsbane was nearby.   
The hole hadn't taken long to dig because he'd worked relentlessly. The blisters on his hand had burst and the skin had healed over only for blisters to form again. The shovel handle had been slippery with blood when he put it down.  
The house loomed out of the trees in front of him and he forced himself to stop. His thoughts were catching up with him. He knew they would no matter what.   
"That's rustic." Brooke said, halting beside him. She was panting.   
He shot her a glare but she met his eyes steadily. He felt something in him deflate.   
"Go home, Brooke." He said.   
"I don't have one yet." She said, "although I suppose seeing that I might as well sleep outside. Is that hole...?" She trailed off. He realised her night vision was better than his. He nodded to confirm her guess.  
"Oh."  
This time she didn't offer any empty words, she only watched him. He realised she was waiting for him to tell her to leave, that she might listen to him this time. He almost didn't want her to but the instinct was stupid. Cat's were solitary animals and he doubted she needed a pack as he needed one.  
He could feel the absence of a pack clearly. A void which stretched all around him. He could feel it in his actions; slower and more sluggish than they had been when his family surrounded him and fed him strength.  
Perhaps she would leave, because he lived in an empty house in the midst of the woods. Perhaps she would leave because they were meeting tomorrow anyway. Maybe she wanted nothing to do with him. He didn't look back as he passed the grave. He could almost feel the hole yawning to his left. The infinite darkness was impossible to ignore. His other senses were trained on her as he entered the house.   
Perhaps she would stay.  
Then her rapid footsteps sounded, becoming fainter as she melted into the forest. Only when the forest was completely silent did he turn and stare at the place where she had disappeared.   
Good. He told himself.   
The sheet he'd covered Laura in was stained with blood. It was strange, having her so close and being unable to scent her.   
He'd arrived two days after her. After she'd called and told him she'd found something. She'd been still warm when he found her and he'd buried his face in her hair. He wished he hadn't. He wished he'd been fast enough the find her other half so the police and the media had stayed out of it.   
Staring pointedly ahead, he lifted her tenderly up and carried her outside. The grave was deep enough to give him ground shock as he jumped into the grave to set her down. He wanted to pull the earth down on top of them both.   
He was angry, he reminded himself. Anger was burning inside of him, scorching out the cold. The anger was good, it warmed him... yet he couldn't make it consume him as he wanted it to. It was there, simmering beneath his skin, but he could feel the grief too. It hurt.   
Footsteps crunched into the leaves above his head. He leapt up onto the ground and found himself standing face to face with Brooke again. She'd been walking loudly on purpose, her own way of giving him warning. She was holding wolfsbane, with it's long root wrapped around her arm. He knew what it was for.   
She set it down and slipped into the grave, uncovering Laura's face gently and making a symbol over her head. A shudder ran down Laura's body. It was a gruesome sight because it made her look alive, but she only morphed into a black wolf and then lay still. Derek reluctantly took up the shovel and begun pushing earth down into the grave as Brooke leapt back out. The blisters on his hands burnt against the handle again.  
Brooke was watching, fiddling with the wolfsbane. He wondered if it hurt her as he buried his sister. When he was done she extended her claws with an easy flick of her hands. They weren't like his; they were metallic like her nails, and much longer. They appeared strong as she gouged the spiral into the earth around the grave.   
She looked up as he picked up the wolfsbane. It didn't burn like silver. It started as a stinging itch, becoming more and more intense as he worked his way around the grave. The poison made him shaky but Brooke did not try take it from him. She only pressed it more firmly into the ground when he reached the end of the root.  
He stretched, popping his back as he stood. His bones were always restless.  
"What now?" She asked him. She seemed to know as well as he did that there was no waiting around for his grief to abate.  
"Find out more about the Argents." "They have a daughter. I saw in their window. She's high school age."   
"Are you?" Derek asked pointedly.   
"I could be."   
"How old are you?" He asked.   
She shrugged, "I think eighteen. I could pass for their age."   
"Maybe, but as a normal student?" He said, his tone challenging. It would be good to have someone in the school. His mind flicked briefly to the students in the woods the previous night. He fingered the inhaler in his pocket.  
"You don't think I can?" She asked. Perfect. She was the kind to rise to a challenge.   
"No."  
"I'll do it."   
He wondered if she could. It was difficult for one of them to act their age. He knew she'd seen and heard things nobody else her age had. He knew he himself had lost the ability to act his age before even the fire. She would do it now, he supposed - because he said she couldn't.  
"I'm going to regret this." She muttered. "I have a house in town - two bedroom. I can make it look like a typical teenagers. I can make the other one look like my mothers might, unless... You wanna stay?"   
Derek looked over his shoulder at the burned husk of his childhood home. It was full of ghosts. The memories woke him up at night. Drenched him in cold sweat. He knew with them he'd never loose focus.  
"You trust too easily." He said. "And you said you didn't have a house."  
"I said I didn't have a home." A bitter smile flickered across her face, "and trust me, I've learned my lesson there. So have you, I suspect."   
"Why would you invite me to stay with you?" He asked.   
She shrugged. "I'm not sure. A cat is a solitary animal after all. I'll go enrol myself in school then."  
"Good."   
"What will you do?"   
"Keep an eye on the guys there. Someone was bitten."  
"Thanks for the answer." She said, rolling her eyes. "See ya." She said, wriggling her fingers. The scent of silver wafted towards him before she sunk into a crouch, her tail unfurling behind her as she melted into the forest again.   
-  
Brooke had been through hell and back, but nothing she experienced was quite like the high school. Enrolling had been strangely easy; she'd forgotten she existed on government records.   
It was difficult for Brooke to focus on the mundane when she was part of so much more.   
She'd gone to a number of shops and brought cheep clothing, but still felt out of place when she stepped into school the next morning. To look non-threatening and approachable she wore denim and light flowery shirts. She even put her hair into a half-ponytail with a small bow adorning the back.   
The Argent girl, who'd started the day before, was sitting alone. Brooke sat down beside her, smiling.  
"Hey." She said.   
"Oh, hi." The Argent girl replied. "Are you new too?"   
"Yeah, were you?" Brooke asked.   
The Argent nodded. "Thanks for rescuing me from being 'the new girl'." She said, "my name's Allison by the way."   
"Brooke." Brooke said, shaking the hand Allison offered.   
"Nice nails." She said. Brooke felt a moment of panic before Allison continued, "did you use a nail powder?"   
"Yeah. Uh... It stays on for ages, it's great."   
"One day you should show me."  
"Sure." Brooke said as the teacher entered the room.  
She was silent as they were put into pairs for a project. Humans were like wolves she decided; if they needed to be together to do something as simple as a school project. She kept the vacant little smile on her face as she got her partner.  
She let her attention wander as much as she dared as the lesson begun. There were many people and she hated it. She managed to narrow in on a guy sitting nearby with a distinctive scent. He was a friend of her partner; Styles.   
"Who is he?" She asked him.  
"Oh, him? That's Scott. You might not wanna go after him right now though. He has a bit of a thing for Allison." Styles paused and then shook his head, as if he hadn't meant to say that much.   
Brooke grinned under her hand. She was good at making people feel relaxed.  
She nodded absentmindedly. He must be the one Derek told him of.   
A switch flipped in her brain and her thoughts were on him. He was strange to her. She knew werewolves well already, knew they needed a pack. She'd never experienced the aching longing that came from being alone but she wondered if he felt it.  
She should not be feeling sorry for lonely werewolves, she told herself. She was on a mission, one which she'd already been distracted from.   
The alpha. Find the alpha.   
So why was she in high school again?  
-  
Derek had not expected to see her so early in the evening; she must've come straight after school finished. She was unrecognizable from the previous night. She wore jeans and a fur-lined tan jacket. Her hair was tied in a half-ponytail, though it was the bow which caught Derek's eye. If he didn't already know she was a good actor he would question his decision to let her help.  
"I just spent an hour analysing some shitty article on depression for english. High school is gonna kill me if the hunters don't."   
"Grow up." He told her.   
"Easy for you to say. I'd rather tackle a coyote than do english."  
"Coyotes are cowards." He informed her.  
"Well then-"  
"Shh." He hissed. He could scent the one who'd been bitten. The infection was taking hold.  
"I can't-"   
"Maybe I have a better sense of smell then you. Now hide."   
"Riight, because I can't be a normal teenager if I'm hanging with you in the woods." She said. Then she leapt upwards and hooked her claws neatly into a tree branch above his head. "Better?" She asked.  
Derek did not reply. He wasn't sure if she was taking this seriously but she was silent as the teens approached. They were scared of him, he could tell, but as he walked away he realised it wasn't he who'd scared them. They thought he couldn't hear them but...  
"Dude! That was Derek Hale. You remember right? He was only, like, a few years older than us."   
"Remember what?" The one who'd been bitten asked.   
"His family? They all burned to death in a fire like ten years ago."   
He'd spoken like it was common knowledge. He wasn't sure which was worse; the fact that people treated the fire as an accident or that they'd forgotten completely.   
"Scott." Came Brookes voice. She'd followed him through the tree tops, her leaps from branch to branch eerily silent.   
"What?"   
"The one that had no clue what was going on was Scott. The other one is Styles; he's my lab partner and Scott's best friend. Only friend by the looks of it."   
"Right." He said. He was glad she didn't mention the fire. He wondered if Laura had told her - if she'd really known her at all. He and his sister had skirted around the topic, as if bringing it up would make the burning start all over again. "Any other information?"   
She shrugged, "yeah, there's this party on Friday I think they're gonna crash."   
"This Friday?"   
"Yeah? So?"   
"It's the full moon." He told her, surprised she didn't know.  
"Oh, right." She said, nodding, "I don't keep track."   
"When do you change?"   
She shrugged, "when I get my period."   
"What?" He asked blankly. He knew it was the same for female werewolves, but it was a strange concept; the moon having no effect.   
She shrugged, "I changed the day I got my first period. I was terrified - my aunt hadn't exactly filled me in."  
"When is it next?" He asked warily.   
She checked her phone. "A couple days. Transformation isn't mandatory though. What are we going to do about Friday?"   
"Not sure." Derek said darkly. "The hunters will be out, and we need to keep an eye on Scott."   
"How about I watch the hunters and you watch Scott?"   
"You can get to the party easier." Derek pointed out. In truth there was nothing he wanted to do less than attend a high school party.   
"Nu-uh. I'm not giving him 'the talk'." She said, air quoting the words. He scented silver again and looked closer at her nails.   
"Are those... Silver?" He asked.   
She flicked her hands, fully extending her claws. They were as long as her fingers and tapered to deadly sharp points.  
"Yeah. I'm not really sure why."   
"So what are your weaknesses?" He asked. He knew she had some; everybody did. The fast healing, super strength and speed had a price.  
"Kryptonite."   
"What's that?"   
"A metal, from another planet." He shook his head. She burst out laughing.   
"You've never heard of it?" She nudged him in the side, shaking her head and grinning widely. Derek did not respond. "It's a joke. I burn when I touch iron, which sucks because it's everywhere. I can't get drunk but catnip has the same effect more or less-"   
Derek felt a snort escape him and she made a face. "Shush. As you were saying, you will go to the party and I'll stalk the hunters."   
"No."   
"You're clearly a whizz at social interaction. You had the boys practically running off the property."   
He knew it was a dig at him but he couldn't bring himself to care.   
"The hunter's will be out later in any case."  
"Protect Scott then." Brooke said, "we don't want them to know there are more wolves in the area."   
"I know." Derek said. He couldn't help but feel responsible for the teen. They were in the same boat after all.   
-  
The boy was stupid, Derek decided after fifteen minutes lurking outside the party. He knew with enhanced hearing the music would be deafening. The scent of sweat and blood would be irresistible to a newly turned wolf. He was debating going inside when Scott tumbled out. He went after the date; he would be seeing Scott soon enough.  
The call came through from Brooke soon after he dropped the girl home - to the Argents. He knew Brooke had kept this from him, but her call brought up a new issue.  
"The hunters are out, except for the Mother."   
"Okay. I have the coat. Let's get him to come to us, then we can keep him out of sight."   
"Oh, Allison. I forgot about her."   
"Did you?" He asked. Her silence was answer enough.  
The forest was silent. Usually Derek could hear the rustling of deer or rabbits or the occasional call of an owl. The silence would make picking out the hunters easy but it meant the alpha was on the prowl. Every living thing knew when the alpha was near - everything except humans of course.   
He could feel the faint tug on his own instincts - to find the alpha. The wolf in him wanted a pack but he ignored the wolf. He ignored the human. Scott would be drawn to him because the alpha was the one which bit him. If he was right he would instead be drawn to the jacket.   
"How much does he like the Argent?" Derek asked.   
"Enough that his best friend would stop a hot girl hitting on him."   
"And by hot, you mean you?" Derek asked.   
"You saying I'm not?" She asked. He doubted the offense in her voice was real.   
"Where are you?" He asked.   
"In the forest, near your house. The hunters are skirting the area. Where should I meet you?"   
"We can draw him to the creek. If we're lucky the Alpha will follow." Derek said, turning towards the creek.   
"Unlucky, you mean. He isn't gonna be easy to kill."  
"I got that." Derek said. "Keep the hunters away."   
"Got it." She said. He could hear the faint metallic scrape of her claws extending.   
By now Scott would be burning up. His fangs would be forcing their way out of his mouth and his fingernails would be thickening into claws. It would hurt but the pain would cease to matter. He would go to what mattered most to him.   
Derek almost hoped that wasn't the Argent girl. They wouldn't last.  
He hung the coat up and waited.  
-  
Scott could have died and perhaps that shouldn't have bothered him quite so much. The teen was suspicious of him and in a sense he'd become a scapegoat to him. Scott was naïve and he wouldn't survive for long on his own. Forming an alliance with him was risky because the alpha held power over him whether he wanted it or not.   
He found himself taking out the hunters one by one, his mind half occupied with theories on how they had gotten past Brooke. He met Scott's eyes and nodded once before searching for her scent on the breeze.  
It was a unique scent. Silver mixed with an earthy-flowery scent and tonight a little blood. He was almost relieved that she'd been hurt rather than a hunter herself.   
There had been another girl who smelt of silver. He hadn't listened to the warnings then. He'd ignored the way the scent cloyed in his nostrils and learned to like it. That never had changed the fact that it hurt him.   
Brooke coiled herself at the base of a tree, her form naked.   
"I had to turn into a cat to lead them away." She rasped. Deep lacerations marked her side but she stood. "Their weapons were all silver thank god.  
It still seemed a strange thing to be thankful for, but he offered her a hand up.   
"You wanna rest at my place for a bit?" He offered.   
She looked suspicious at this but nodded, wincing as she followed him. For once her footsteps were not silent.  
"How did it go with Scott?" She asked.  
He briefly went over their conversation.   
"That isn't how you make friends." She said wryly when he was done.   
"I prefer not to deceive." He said pointedly.   
She ignored the dig, leaning heavily against him as they entered his house.  
"In here." He said, "it's sheltered."   
"Oh, thanks." She said, swaying as he left her. "You don't have any spare clothes, do you?"   
"Yeah," he said, making no move to get them.  
She was distracting, even with the blood still running sluggishly down her side. Her form was lithe and slender. Her hip and collar bones jutted out as a cats might and her limbs were long and graceful. Then she crossed her arms over her chest.   
"Clothes." She reminded him.   
He tore his eyes from her body and brought her a shirt. Slipping it on she yawned widely.   
"I'll be healed in a few minutes." She said, blinking to stay awake. "Ugh, healing makes me tired."  
"Sleep then."   
She shook her head wearily.   
"I'll watch for the hunters." He assured her.  
"You might..." She yawned again, "I've never heard that tone in your voice before. It's nice." Then she shook her head, "okay, fine. Wake me if anyone drops in."   
Without further ado she curled up on the floor, tucking herself into his shirt. The position was catlike and he could hear the low vibration of her purr. He understood why she didn't want to sleep when he was near. Sleep made you vulnerable. She twitched as her dreams, or nightmares, begun to stalk her. Derek felt himself leaving the room again, returning with a blanket which he dumped over her.   
She was gone by morning but the blanket was folded neatly.  
-  
Checking up on her was instinct. He needed information anyway. The lacrosse game was a night away and they needed to stop Scott from playing. That was the main reason, he told himself. He knew she would be healed anyway. Worry still coiled in the pit of his stomach. It was late but he doubted she'd be doing anything else.   
He was right. She opened the door almost before he knocked.   
"Nice car." She said, stepping aside to let him in. "I haven't found out any more about Scott. He did talk to his coach about not playing. He wouldn't take no for an answer."  
"Idiot." Derek muttered.  
"You should have texted, you know." Brooke said, gesturing for him to sit. "Styles was here not long ago so we could finish our Chemistry. They really hate you."   
He rolled his eyes, "yeah, that's new."   
"That's sad." She said, "when was the last time you had friends?"   
He hated the way she spoke of friends. As if they were necessary.   
"Poor Derek." She grinned, passing him a plate of food.   
He took it and looked up at her.   
"You look so confused - it isn't poisoned."  
"I'm not staying long." He said, setting it aside.   
She shrugged and took one. "You should. I'm bored. And I don't like working with someone I know nothing about."  
She took a bite and settled beside him.   
"And I can hear your stomach from here. What do you eat? Do you have money? No, you must, your car's freaking awesome. It's just a weird image... Derek Hale browsing for cereal in the supermarket."   
"Do you ever shut up?" He asked.   
"I have a solution," she said, leaning in. "Leave."   
He didn't stand up.   
"Exactly. Do you want your shirt back?" She wrinkled her nose, "it's still covered in my blood but I'll get to washing it. Hey, are you any good at maths? I'm pretty sure I stopped learning it at, like, third grade."   
"I was best at chemistry." He said.   
"Styles is my tutor there."  
"Do you want to pass the year?"   
"He's actually really smart. I thought he was stupid for looking for half a body... In a forest... At midnight... but he's actually just curious with no sense of self-preservation."  
"Do you consider yourself a good judge of character?" Derek asked. He was curious now.   
She shrugged, "I haven't properly been around people for a while. I was surprised my acting was still good. I like to think I am."   
"How would you judge me?"   
"You mean how did I judge you?" She corrected, shifting in her seat. "You surprised me to be honest. I thought... I don't know... I have a vomeronasal organ - like a cat. It lets me pick up what pheromones someone's releasing. My overall sense of smell isn't as good as yours but I can sense someone's... General emotions? Through it. Usually fear or lust, I've been trying to fine tune it but..." She trailed off with a shrug, "anyway, my point was that I got nothing off you which set me back. Then I thought you were a heartless asshole but you're trying to help Scott and you helped me last night... So now I believe you're an asshole with a heart."   
"So kind of you." Derek said.   
"Ooh, and a sense of humour, I'm learning a lot about you."   
"And I know nothing about you." Derek pointed out.   
"That's true. Not even my tragic backstory."   
"Which is?" 

"The Argents, basically." She said.   
Her tone was off. When she spoke of them that first time it had been genuine in it's anger and sadness. Genuine in the way she'd almost hidden it. Now her tone was carefully constructed and her heart rate had risen.  
"They took out most of my family before I'd changed for the first time. Before that I was pretty normal apart from the enhanced senses..."   
Truth.   
"They sent me to live with a family friend-" truth, "-he promised to care for me." Lie. "He's dead now." Truth.   
"Was this family friend a wolf?" "Yeah. He and his pack."  
"All dead?"   
"I would assume so." She said. She wasn't looking at him now. He wondered if she was trying to conceal tears or another lie. "C'mon." She stood before he could confirm. "Let's go stalk their social media. Styles 'left' his phone behind." She flashed him the device. "By the way, do you want my number?" "Right, yes." He said. She was confusing him now, delicately walking the line between killer and almost-trustworthy.   
She led him into her room and perched on the edge of her bed. His uneasiness faded as the night wore on, despite his misgivings. She stretched out, lying on her stomach beside him, her chin resting on his knee as he went through the phone.   
"Lemme put Scott's contact in my phone." She said when he got to it. "And give me your number while you're at it."   
"Right." He said as she pulled out her phone. He winced as she snapped a photo of him.  
"Contact photo." She said. "No flash." She said, shooting him a sideways glance. "Don't be mad."  
"You sure it's smart to have my name on there?" He asked as she typed it in.   
"Don't worry, I'll say you're my..." She rolled onto her back and looked up him, her eyes narrowing and her teeth nipping at her lip in consideration, "I'll say that you're my boyfriend."   
"They'll hate me more." He pointed out.   
"Nah, I'll say you're really sweet. Like, you bring me chocolates on my period and send me goodnight texts with little hearts."   
He snorted, "try make it a little more believable."  
"Meh." She rolled back onto her stomach, resettling her head on his leg. The weight of it was surprisingly comfortable. Her arms stretched out in front of her, tapping in his number on her phone. He held his arms carefully so he wouldn't bump her. His relaxation was brief, his leg cramped; her chin jutted into the muscles. He wasn't sure why he didn't simply move; perhaps he was afraid she would sit up straight and the resettle herself at a distance. His free leg began to jog with pent up energy as she yawned and pressed herself closer against his side.   
She noticed this when she shut her phone and placed a hand on his leg.  
"Nervous?" She asked.   
"What?"   
"You seem... Oh, right." She seemed to finally take note of their position. "It's a cat thing... Physical contact - I'm too-comfortable with it I guess."  
"You mean you like being petted."   
"Depends where." She grinned toothily.  
Derek had owned a cat when he was small. It was ironic, considering they were a family of wolves, but they'd had one cat and one dog and the cat had slept on his bed every night without fail. He'd noticed cat-like qualities in Brooke already; her eyes followed fast moving objects, her walk was a prowl, she switched between hardened killer and kitten in seconds. Even her face was cat-like; her features delicate yet sharp; her chin jutted out stubbornly and her high cheek bones made her face appear almost triangular, reminiscent of a Siamese.  
So he ran a gentle finger under her chin.   
"Stopppp," she complained.  
"You sure?"   
He could feel her vibrating against her thigh as she begun to purr.   
"I hate you right now." She said, nuzzling into his hand as he continued to stroke.   
Her purr had an ataractic effect on him; he felt his laugh fade as he relaxed. His stroking became second nature as he continued going through Styles' phone. She watched him through her lashes, her purr showing her contentment. He almost could have fallen asleep.  
Then the video call came through.   
"Oh hey, it's Scott."   
"Don't-" he begun as she lunged up and snatched it off him.   
"Brooke." He said warningly, "they can't see me."  
She rolled her eyes. He wasn't sure how she did it, but she stretched one leg over him and knocked him over. Her face was inches from his own and he realised he'd become far too familiar with this position and the almost invisible freckles which dotted the bridge of her nose.   
"Too late." She said, holding the phone so he was out of the frame and answering.  
"Styles! Hi! And Scott, right?"   
"Yeah," came the voice on the other side of the line.   
"Your phone was just under the sofa, sorry, I didn't hear it till I came down." Her voice had changed again, Derek realised. It was the voice she must use around school, the once she'd used that night at the Argents - higher pitched and breathy. It was perfectly unassuming, making her seem air-headed and innocent.   
"Why are you in your room then?" Styles asked.   
"How do you know what my room looks like?" She asked. There was a moment of silence in which Styles probably searched for a plausible excuse. Brooke broke it with a laugh, "I'm kidding, it's just my Mum had the TV on in the main room and I wanted to be able to hear you."   
"Right."   
"Anyways, we don't have chemistry tomorrow and I have tutoring during breaks - for maths," she shot a meaningful glance at Derek.   
He taking shallow breaths, trying not to make any noise into the phone. She wasn't heavy but her elbow dug into his side.  
"So anyway, are you going to the lacrosse game? I can give it to you then."   
She was clever, he decided. She had steered the conversation in exactly the right direction.   
"Yeah."  
"Cool! Are you playing?"   
"Nah, Scott is though."   
"Really? No wonder Allison is going. Good luck!" She hung up soon after and rolled off Derek, who visibly relaxed.   
"Well, you got your answer."   
"Idiots."   
"You've already called them that."  
"Doesn't make it any less accurate."  
She shook her head playfully and leaned back on him, this time her head on his shoulder.  
"How did you get us into that position over there?" He added as an afterthought.   
"Cat's are much more flexible than humans. You should have seen me in gymnastics before I shifted for the first time."  
"And your first instinct when the call came was to jump on me?"   
"At least I didn't shove you off the bed." She said.   
He found his hand gravitating back towards her face and she leaned into his touch. It seemed second nature to her to let him touch her as he did. She made it easy to do so and yet he was hyper aware of the way she pressed herself against him. He couldn't trust her, he reminded himself. He shouldn't be so close to her.  
It had already lasted too long.   
-Second Chance at First Line-  
There were some things Derek couldn't stand; psychotic ex-girlfriends, the taste of silver, being helpless - to name a few. Then there were the things he feared. The things that made his heart race and sweat bead on his brow. Maybe the blood would drain from his face and his breaths would come hard and fast. He'd gotten better at hiding it, but the fear was still there.   
The scent of smoke made him gag. Sometimes he woke up from the nightmares and he swore that he smelt smoke coiling around him. He would rush outside and gulp in fresh air and still the faint tang of smoke seemed to whisper around him. He hadn't even been in the house when the fire started, but he remembered the scent of charred flesh.   
Small spaces made him shiver. They forced his shoulders to hunch inwards and his chest seemed to cave in on itself. He dreamed of the fire and he dreamed of being in the cupboard under the stairs; where he and his sisters had played hide and seek. The smoke was there too but he couldn't escape it. The cupboard was smaller than he remembered and his shoulders pressed against the side. He should have been able to break the flimsy wood door own but no matter how hard he threw himself against it, the wood held steady.   
The police car wasn't as bad as it could have been. The metal on the front was flimsy and the windows were only glass. He knew he could escape if he wanted, and that knowledge kept his stare deadly as he attempted to coerce Styles into stopping Scott from playing.  
The prison cell was worse. He knew he wouldn't be there long, not when they would announce the killer as being animal. The cell was still small, with a bench along one side and bars on the door. The wolf inside him hated tight spaces as well. They were meant to be in the open. They were meant to run. He could feel the fear but he couldn't show it. Not when he needed to look innocent. Not when people were watching him.   
Anger came to his rescue. The anger that they'd dug up his sister and violated her grave. The anger that Scott didn't understand what he was trying to do. It simmered inside him, keeping him warm as the cell grew cold. They questioned him and he answered as vaguely as he could. When they let him out, he walked in the direction of a bus stop until he was out of sight. Then he broke into a run.   
-  
She was waiting for him we he reached the house, leaning on the door frame and scratching things into the peeling red paint of the door.  
"Dumbass." She said when she caught sight of him.   
He grimaced. He shouldn't have left his house for so long. A reply almost made it through his lips but he caught sight of the police tape still surrounded the grave. Claws forced their way to his fingertips and he stepped up to it and slashed it to ribbons. Brooke sighed and he felt her hand on his shoulder. Today she wore the same half-ponytail and bow, but with heeled boots; she was almost his height.   
"How did prison treat you?" She asked.  
He sighed heavily, "what do you want me to say?"  
She shrugged, "dunno, I was trying to make conversation... Wanna meet tomorrow then?"   
He didn't stop to think for what, he only nodded.  
-Pack Mentality-  
The next day she arrived moments before Scott.   
"Bus driver." She panted.  
"I know, get in."   
He shut the door and she slunk into the shadows as they waited for Scott's voice.   
"I know you can hear me." He said.   
Brooke lifted an eyebrow and Derek slunk out of the car.  
"Who did it?" He asked Brooke when Scott was gone.   
"You terrified him."  
"I offered him help." He said.   
"You forced him into it. Be nice Derek, kids scared."   
"You're his age." He pointed out.   
"I don't feel it." She muttered.   
He imagined her feeling it. Maybe she wouldn't wear the bow and she would line her eyes with thick liner, trying to feel older. Maturity was visible in the way she spoke to him, the high-school voice gone. It was visible in the way she smiled, as if she knew the thing which made her happy wouldn't last.  
"Did you get anything from the bus?" He asked.  
"Yeah... Scott was there, but someone else was too. The alpha. We need to find it."   
"I'm aware of that thanks."   
She yawned, "I'll keep and eye out for the scent - well, nose out I guess. Maybe I'll go sit in a library or a hospital or something."   
"A hospital?"   
She shrugged, "just a hunch."  
"Right."   
Her phone went off and she glanced at it. "Shit, I'm meant to be meeting Styles for chemistry." She tucked her phone away, "drop me home?"  
"Uh, yeah."   
"Great!" She bounced ahead of him into his car.  
"Is this your high school persona still?" He asked. The maturity was hidden again. Perhaps she was making up for the sadness he'd seen before. He wanted to tell her not to bother.  
"Maybe," she said, settling into the seat, "or maybe I'm just excited to see you. Do you need two hands to drive?"   
"No."   
A purr begun deep in her throat as she looked at him pleadingly.   
"You have no dignity." He said.   
"I'm pretending to be an air-headed high schooler, I threw myself at you to escape being noticed by hunters, I stripped down a few minutes after meeting you when you still hated me - do you still hate me? - and you just realised I had no dignity?"   
He shook his head and ran his fingers through her hair.   
"Your tank's nearly empty." She observed,  
"I'll fill it on the way back or something." He said.  
"Mmkay." She said, stretching out over the seat. "Do I owe you gas money?"   
"Do you have money?"   
She shrugged, "a bit. I've worked at a few places." "Where's the house from?"   
"An old one of Jarrad's - uh, the alpha I stayed with. Our pack had a bunch of them across the country."   
She lingered in the car outside her house when it stopped, letting him run his fingers through her hair one last time before hopping out. "See ya later."   
-  
He knew the two cars which pulled into the station while he was filling up were there for him. Very few people were out that late after curfew and fewer smelt of silver. Control had never really been out of his grasp. Even on his first full moon he'd held onto his human. Anger was his tool to use and it was a very human emotion.   
Now it was the anger that threatened his control as Chris spoke of his family - or lack of it. He turned to pain, digging his claws into the palm of him hand and continuing the stare down. He barely flinched as they smashed in his window. When they were gone he smashed the rest of the window and brushed the glass of the seat. There was one text from Brooke.   
'two cars followed u out, u might wanna watch that'  
He ignored it.  
-  
Brooke had three missed calls. They weren't from Derek. Even without the contact in her phone she knew who they were from and she knew why they were calling.   
The thought sent shivers down her spine. He was coming for her and she was running out of places to hide. Of excuses. Of time.   
For now he was across the country. For now he was searching the mountains and obscure places. He would discover the truth soon enough and she would have to be ready. The alpha was near, and she needed him.

-Magic Bullet-  
"I smell him," Brooke hissed.   
"No kidding, why do you think we've been going this way?"   
"Shh, okay... I see him!" She pointed a clawed hand to a roof top. With no hesitation she bunched her legs below her and in a powerful bound landed near the alpha, just as he begun to run.  
Derek followed, his claws biting into the side of the building. Something was wrong; the alpha was running from someone not them. He heard the sound of gunshots and his attention was diverted.   
"Come on!" Shouted the holder of the gun.  
That wasn't fear. He'd know that voice anywhere.   
But the alpha was moving, so he chased the scent of wolf, ignoring the tang of silver. He should have known better than to follow them onto the rooftops. He felt the pain almost before the bullet hit him. He saw Brooke's eyes flash as she turned back. She spared him only a glance, as if there was nothing less important at that moment. Her focus was solely on the alpha and in seconds the two of them were out of view.  
He sat gingerly. The pain was everywhere but he found the wound in his arm. It reeked of silver and smoke coiled out from the wound. More than silver. He clenched his teeth as he forced himself upright. He needed to get himself out of the area before they searched it but he doubted he could stand.   
It wasn't just the pain although the burning was intense. His head swum and his vision blurred but he had to move.   
But not home. The risk was too large. If they came he wouldn't even be able to run. He needed to talk to Scott. He wanted to talk to Brooke.   
His car then, and then school.   
One foot in front of the other. Take the long way so the ground was flat. Hold the arm straight, don't favour it. Don't show the pain.   
The same routine went for school the next day. He knew his chances were bad. He knew because the slightest jostle in the hallway sent new pain shooting up his arm and burning, burning, it's way into his mind. He didn't make a sound, but only because he clenched his mouth shut, biting into his tongue. His eyes too, fluttered shut, but he forced them open because the darkness was too comfortable. He couldn't afford to rest.  
He kept his eyes down, his breathing shallow. His control too was slipping as people flowed around him. The scents were making him dizzy. The light only worsened the pounding in his head.  
Talking to Jackson would provoke suspicion but he had no choice. He took a deep breath, trying to steady the frantic pulsing of his heart as it pumped blood to the wound. His body had been trying to heal non-stop for twelve hours and he hadn't eaten.  
"Where's Scott McCall?" He growled.  
The boy shut his locker. Derek knew he was reading into the situation. He wouldn't get the answer easily.   
"Why should I tell you?"   
He didn't have the time for this.   
"Because I asked you politely and I only do that once." Or not at all. Part of him was begging to slam the boy against the wall. The hall was quiet, no one would notice.   
The pain in his arm increased.  
"Okay, tough guy. How about... I help you find him if you tell me what you're selling him?"   
Derek narrowed his eyes. The boy thought something very different was happening. He begun listing drugs. It clicked. He gave Jackson a searching look, part disbelief.  
"Steroids." He said numbly. He couldn't do this. He wanted so badly to force the information out of him.   
"...you look wrecked."   
The tables had turned, he realised. Jackson had blocked him off. He thought he was close to finding out where Scott's newfound skill had come from.   
He could feel the blood trickling down his arm. It was warm and thick, as if it flowed from a fresh wound. A single drop fell from his hand to the floor. That was his life, flowing out of him.   
"I'll find him myself." He said, as if it were possible to do such a thing. Anger was coiling in his stomach. He knew it was irrational, to want to hurt a stranger for their own stupidity.   
"No! We're not done here."   
He still thought he had the upper hand, but it was the touch to his arm which snapped his control. It was instinct, suddenly, to slam him up against the locker. To dig his claws into the unprotected flesh of his neck. The pain brought him back swiftly; he'd used his injured arm and suddenly he couldn't see straight. Jacksons blood mingled with his own, staining his claws.  
He stumbled out of sight, pressing himself into the wall, forcing his claws to recede. His vision was tinged with red, so he focused on sound. It was sensory overload there, as he dipped in and out of hundreds of conversations. The scratch of chalk on the blackboard. The click of typing. The faint beat of music in headphones playing too loud. Pencil on paper.   
He could hear Brooke's voice. He didn't realise he was focused on it until her conversations flooded his mind. Small things; asking to burrow a pencil. Talking to Styles. She told him she was busy after school, so the chemistry work could wait.  
She spoke to the teacher about homework she hadn't done. She answered a call during break and her heart rate sped up and she spoke about mountains. That should have been significant. He couldn't figure out why.  
Finally she spoke to Allison, and at the mention of Scott, he mentally followed her and Lydia's conversation about a study date. Scott would be at the Argents. It was almost perfect.  
He got what he needed from the conversation, which ended when the bell jerked him back to reality. He went to cover both ears, but pain shot up his injured arm. He forgot how to tune out - how to stop the sound from beating up his ear drums. When it was finally quiet his eyes were watering in pain.   
The carpark then. He struggled to uncurl himself from his position and he struggled to navigate his way outside.   
-  
He didn't know where to go and he had seconds to decide. His own house was off limits, he'd known that already. When he'd gotten into the car with Styles his focus had been on hiding the pain. The thrum of the car's engine had hurt and been calming at the same time. Reality was unpleasant.  
"Give me a moment." He demanded. He needed to think.   
His phone went off and he ignored Styles' jibe about him having friends. It was Brooke.   
"Derek, I swear to god, if you were the reason I was smelling blood and strange herbs all day I am going to set a mountain lion on you."   
"Not the time." He gritted out. Not the time for her to yell at him, not after leaving him for dead. Not the time for her shrill 'high school voice'.   
Her tone changed suddenly.   
"Get your ass to my house or I will find you and I will drag you there myself. Got it?"   
"That a threat?"   
"It's a warning. Move." She hung up.   
"Did whoever call you say what I thought they said?" Styles asked. Derek shot him a glare and gave him the address.  
"Hang on... Is that...? Nah."   
Derek almost smirked.  
"Here." He said when her house came up. "Pull over."   
"Here? Like at this house here?"   
"No, into that gutter." He growled.  
"My lab partner lives there."   
"Fascinating. Pull. Over."   
"Or what?"   
Derek showed him his claws. "Go knock. Tell her I'm here."   
"Okay, okay."   
He watched wearily as Styles lifted his hand to knock. The door was open before he did, Brooke was wearing his shirt.  
"Styles! Uh... Is it urgent? We still have a week until chemistry."   
"Derek's in the car."   
"Derek?" she said, her tone perfectly confused, "who's that?"   
"Derek Hale."   
"Like arrested for murder and then released Derek Hale?"   
"You can drop the charade, Brooke." Derek said.   
She twitched. "You know, I was doing really well at being a normal high school student. This is sabotage." She was already at the car and pulling open the door he was leaned against. She caught him as he slipped out.   
"What's in the bullet? Silver and...?" She asked as she hauled him towards the house. Styles rushed into to help, his glances at the blood fleeting. They laid him on the bed and Derek had to take several deep, rasping breaths before he could speak.  
"Not sure... I need a... Sample."   
"Okay.. Well, let's get it out of you. Styles, can you get the first-aid-kit?"   
"Yeah... Yeah, sure." He looked relieved to be out of the room.   
When he was out of earshot Brooke leaned in. "I'm sorry for leaving you. I almost had him. I followed him back to the hospital but lost him inside. How much pain are you in?"   
He shot her a deadpan look and she made a face, "dumb question, fine." She conceded. "Are you okay?"  
"What do you think?" He snapped.   
"Silver fucks with your head. Are you in control?"   
"I'm fine!"   
"Derek, I need to know if I need to chain you to the sofa. Are. You. In. Control?"   
"Yes." He growled.   
"Doesn't sound like it." Came Styles voice.  
Brooke shot him a look and he passed her the box. "Shirt off." She ordered Derek.   
He hissed in pain as it scraped over his wound and Brooke helped him ease the fabric over it. "The infection hasn't spread past the shoulder." Derek said.   
"Liar." She hissed, and leaned in and pressed her mouth to his bicep.   
Derek stiffened as she breathed in his scent, her eyes fluttering shut.  
"Should I leave you two alone?" Styles asked.   
Brooke seemed to realise she'd dropped her high school voice but didn't react.  
"Call Scott." She said, sitting up and clasping her hands together. Derek realised they were shaking slightly. "Jesus your pain threshold is high. Why are you even conscious?"   
"Why did you need to lick him?" Styles asked, making no move to his phone.   
"Here." She tossed him something.  
"A lifesaver?" Styles asked, turning the mint around in his fingers.   
"Yeah, put in in your mouth. How much more detail can you feel with your tongue?" She turned away from him and knelt back over Derek. "Right, does it burn or sting or ache?"   
"It burns." He said. He was aware of Styles watching him, turning the mint over in his mouth. He didn't want to bare his weaknesses in front of him but Brooke kept asking questions.   
Where could he feel the pain?  
(Everywhere)   
Did the bullet smoke when it him?   
(Yes)   
Was his vision impaired? Could he balance?   
"This isn't helping!" He snarled finally. "You don't need to know this."   
"Give me what I need, we're running out of time."   
Their eyes clashed and Brooke bared her teeth, springing into action. She tore off her shirt and he saw what he hadn't the other times she'd shifted. Her side was covered in a faint tapestry of scars. There were only a few weapons that scarred their kind, and the hunters had access to all of them.   
"That's the mark of every known hunter weapon and poison. I lied. I'm affected by wolfsbane just not by silver. Give me a list of your symptoms." She muttered something about machoistic tendencies as he finally gave her the list.  
She shook her head, "it's something new. It's like wolfsbane, maybe a different variety. We need that bullet - a fresh one. Let's get this one out of you."   
She flicked her claws out.   
"Woah, those aren't like Scotts."   
"I'm more feline."   
"A werecat?"   
She huffed a laugh and shook her head.   
"Right, this is gonna hurt like a bitch."   
He knew that already. She forced his arm into the ground and gently closed the tips of her claws around the bullet. They sparked as they met the casing and his body surged against her.   
"Styles! Hold him down!"   
He felt weight against his other side but when her claws met his skin again he screamed and he fought. He felt the slickness of blood running down his arm again but as suddenly as the weight on him had been put there it was gone. She was holding the bullet between her claws near her face and examining it.   
"The bone it your arm's probably fractured. Whatever was in this will be in your bone marrow."  
"Good to know." He panted.   
"Okay... Lets stop the bleeding."   
She tore a strip off the bottom of her (his) shirt and wrapped it tightly around his upper arm. Then she bandaged the wound itself. Her face was scrunched up.   
"What's wrong?" He asked her.  
"Me?" She said incredulously. "I'm fine. It's just I can feel how much pain you're in."   
"Great."   
"You wanna stop feeling it?"   
"Pain killers don't work on wolves."   
"I know. Ugh, I should not be telling you this..." she lay down beside him, her eyes searching his. "I can produce pheromones. to. I can block your pain receptors to an extent if you lie still."  
"What other effects will it have?"   
"None if I do it right."   
He shouldn't trust her to take the reins, he really shouldn't.   
Yet he did.   
His nod was shaky and she asked him to confirm before she pressed herself to his side and began purring. He felt the calm wash over him and his mind clear. The burning over his body had dulled to an ache; insistent but bearable. He wondered now why he'd listened. He wondered now why he had felt so safe the moment he stepped inside. It wasn't right.   
And then the clarity disappeared. He knew the pain was still there and the clench of his fists was instinctive. The silver, and whatever else was in the bullet was making it difficult to stay human.  
"Woah, hey, please don't wolf out. If you take off on that arm..."   
"I... Can't." He grunted. She sat up and lifted his head onto his lap, stroking his hair from his face.   
"Your heart beats rising." She said, her purr stopping.   
"I don't think that's the bullet." He said wearily.   
The blankets became tangled around his fists. She was calming him, he knew, but it was making the change instinctual. Her hands in his hair and her voice, soft and low now, were draining the anger out of him, and without it the shift was becoming instinctual.   
"You need to... Stop." He squeezed his eyes shut but he knew his vision would be red. He knew his eyes would glow blue.  
"You've shifted."   
He nodded, his eyes still tight shut. His thoughts were fleeting and feral and yet he didn't want to leave her embrace.  
"That's okay." She said, "no one's here to see you... You don't seem violent."   
No. He wanted her to lie back down beside him and let him sleep. He could feel her purr rumbling in her stomach again.  
"Lie back down." He told her. His voice sounded gravelly while shifted.  
She complied. He couldn't figure out what the look in her eyes was. They'd always seemed strange to him. They contrasted sharply to her face, and were closer to gold than they were to brown. With the secrets they held he almost expected them to be darker. Not warm and clear. Not wide open. Not flecked with amber and rimmed with onyx. Not framed by long lashes.   
Not her eyes.   
He didn't want to see the things she was hiding anymore. They were all hiding things, that was a given. Secrets lurking under pleasantries and soft smiles.  
Perhaps her secrets wouldn't matter to him. Maybe her old life and this one would never overlap. Then he could stop searching her and drown in the soft depths of her eyes.   
Not quite clear, he decided, as she ran gentle fingers down his injured arm. Murky.   
He felt her fingers squeezing his.   
"The bloods still returning to your fingers. We can leave the tourniquet on for another half hour or so."   
It was instinct to squeeze her fingers back, as if he were comforting her. When he didn't let go he heard her heartbeat rise and he felt her breathing become rapid. She was watching him still, that strange expression still in place.  
"I wanted... To tell you something." He said, half asleep. He wasn't sure where the words were coming from. He would probably regret it later.   
"No you don't." She said.  
"I really do."   
"Derek... It's the pheromones, you know it is. You won't feel... Whatever it is you're feeling-" She shook her head, her lips parting as if to rebuke him. Her hand tightened around his.  
He tried to follow her as she sat up but a gentle pressure on his chest stopped him. With a flick of her wrist she tucked that ridiculously long silvery hair to one side and leaned in, brushing her lips against his in a kiss.  
He knew what it should feel like. Like that first night in the Argents backyard. The mash of teeth against teeth and the scent of blood on her breath.   
Not that it was any less gentle now. She looked like she might flutter her lashes shyly and go in for a quick peck on his cheek. It would leave him wanting more. This left him wanting more.   
He followed her mouth upwards and this time she didn't stop him. An arm around his back supported him. Pressed them closer...  
"Guys?" She broke off from him, a growl rumbling in her throat.  
"Woah... Uh, Scott called. He said to take Derek to the vets."   
"Okay." She said, helping him stand. The snarl had disappeared as quickly as it come and she was helping him stand. "Does he have it?"   
She looked nervous now, a tint of red across her cheeks. Her eyes pointedly strayed away from Derek's.  
"Yeah... Well, probably."  
"Probably?" Derek asked.   
"Yeah, well apparently their house is, like, full of bullets... There was a lot of choice."   
"Don't worry, Derek." Brooke said, helping him to the car. "If he doesn't we can always cut off the arm."   
He shot her a glare. Maybe it was the strange haze of pain and bliss he was in, but keeping up with her different acts was becoming impossible.  
"That was a joke, right?" Styles said as he put his jeep into gear.  
"He wishes it was." Brooke said, ignoring the seatbelt and making space for Derek.   
He really was hoping to avoid having his arm cut off.   
The pain was back from the moment she stopped touching him and it was a reminder that it was getting worse. It was becoming unbearable.   
He would bare it.  
A hand found his and grasped it tightly. Brooke was talking to Styles but a small, secretive smile flitted around the corners of her mouth.  
Not alone. He didn't have to bare it alone.   
-  
Styles didn't miss the twitch of Brookes fingers as she caught Derek's hand in hers. He didn't miss the way her expression brightened and saddened all at once. He didn't miss the way her voice stayed exactly the same.   
Their relationship was strange. Not quite there, yet it ran deep all the same. Derek had not seemed the kind of person to get involved. His every thought was well hidden. His face was emotionless.   
Except when he was snarling. Or rolling his eyes. Or very possibly holding Brookes hand.   
Styles' eyes were firmly on the road. The last the he wanted to do was make eye contact with Derek. Or scratch his jeep of course.  
He didn't have to see Derek to know how bad things were; he could literally smell death. If he could Brooke definitely could. She was tense beside him but her smile was still in place.   
They pulled over at the vets and helped Derek inside. He was leaning more heavily on them than when he'd taken him into Brooke's house. His feet dragged along the ground and his head lolled to one side.   
"What are we gonna do?" He asked Brooke.   
She made a face, "wait for Scott."   
Styles shouldered through the door into the examination room and both he and Brooke began searching the cupboards.   
"Uh, guys? What are you-"   
Derek came up with an electric saw. He was holding it far too close to his arm.   
"One of you is going to cut off my arm."   
"That's my cue to leave." Brooke said, shooting Styles a possibly evil grin before exiting the room.   
"I liked you better when you were my lab partner!" He shouted after her.  
Derek held the saw out to Styles. He couldn't bring himself to take it, so Derek slammed it down on the table, his glare turning full force onto Styles.  
"Look man, I really don't think I do this." Styles said, pointedly stepping away from the saw.   
"What? Can't stand the sight of blood?"   
"It's the chopped off arm I can't deal with." Styles said, holding his hands up in defeat. "Brooke can, get her to!"   
"I'm busy!" She shouted, her voice came from another room.   
"With what?"   
"Finding human size bandages."   
"I'll heal!"   
"That doesn't make basic first-aid irrelevant!"  
"Jesus, you two bicker like an old married couple." Styles said. He hadn't expected the comment to have any effect. Derek had been turned in the direction of Brooke's voice but now he looked back at Styles incredulously. There was a crash from the other room. A few seconds later Brooke returned with an armful of bandages.   
"Are you... Blushing?" Styles asked her.   
"No." She said pointedly shoving the bandages in his direction.   
Her tone was good, but she denied it slightly too fast, as if she were scared of him reading any more into the situation. Too late. He smirked at Derek but said nothing; the hacksaw was still on the table. Brooke seemed to have followed his gaze and picked it up.   
"You sure we can't wait for Scott any longer?" She asked.   
"Yes! I'm half dead already."   
"Three quarters." Styles corrected.   
This time both of them glared at him. He wondered if he could use any of their relationship against them, Derek in particular.   
"Okay... Okay, this is fine." Brooke said, picking up the saw.  
"I didn't think you'd be squeamish." Styles said. "I'm not. I just think he hasn't thought this through."   
"Yeah, well who knows what's going in his head." Styles said.   
"'He' is right here." Derek growled.   
Styles stepped back when he noticed the claws digging into the metal. Brooke stepped forwards.  
"Let's finalize. Just let me see how much time you have left."   
She pressed her mouth to Derek's shoulder, her eyes rolling back into her head. "Half an hour - before it reaches your heart. Twelve hours at the most after that."   
"Comforting."  
"Look, I'll call Scott again." Styles said.   
There was a banging outside and Brooke looked up. Her claws emerged almost instantly.   
"Someone's on edge." Styles muttered. It was Scott, it had to be.  
The door to the room they were in swung open. Scott was unclipping his helmet, still breathing heavily from the ride there.  
"Great!" Brooke said.  
"Did you get it?" Derek asked.   
"Yeah. Yeah it's-" Scott rummaged in his pockets, staring at the saw on the table.   
"Just in time." Styles told him.  
"Got it!" Scott pulled out the bullet and gave it to Derek. "What will you do with it?" He asked him.   
Derek held it up, swaying on the spot. Styles realised what was going to happen a moment before everyone else. Not in time to say anything as Derek slumped towards the floor. Brooke moved lightening fast. She slide her arms under him before he hit the floor. She didn't even look as the bullet rolled across the floor.  
Scott dived for it. Styles stared at Derek.   
"Guys, I think he's dying."   
"I know." Scott said.  
"I think he's dead!" "He's not."   
"You trying to convince yourself? Do you know how to fix him?"   
"No."   
"Wake him up then!" Styles said.   
He rolled his eyes as she called his name and gently slapped his face.   
"What is this, a soap opera?" Styles asked. "God, he's so going to kill me for this..." He clenched his fist and did what he'd wanted to do for a long time; he punched Derek in the face. It woke him up well enough.   
"Got it!" Scott said, standing with the bullet. Styles caught sight of claws receding back into his fingertips.  
"Nice."   
Derek took the bullet and bit off the top. Brooke had a hand on his shoulder. She was taking deep breaths. Styles could see a faint glimmering under her skin as she did... Whatever she did to take his pain.   
"Lighter... In my pocket." Derek panted as he shook the tip of the bullet. A powdery substance fell out. Brooke pulled out his lighter.   
"Do you smoke?" She asked.   
"No."   
"Why do you-?" She jumped back as he lit the powder on fire.   
Sparks flew towards the roof. Derek barely flinched, breathing in the smoke before sweeping the still smouldering remains into his hands and pressing it to the wound. A guttural scream tore from his throat. It must've been bad, because it was the most emotion he'd outwardly shown the whole night. Brooke was watching, her head titled to one side. Then, as if jerking out of a daze she sank to her knees by his side and inhaled a deep gulp of air as she tempered his pain.   
The veins and arteries radiating from the bullet wound had been black with infection. Before their eyes it shrunk back. Derek's screams didn't make it sound as if the wound were improving but when his body healed he stopped, his eyes still clenched shut. He seemed to register Brooke's hand on his arm and he shook it off.  
There was a silence in which they all breathed a sigh of relief.   
"I didn't know you were involved in this." Scott said to Brooke. She shrugged, "you'd be surprised which people know about the supernatural."   
"Yeah, I guess." He turned to Derek, "so you'll live?"   
He nodded.   
"So now you... You leave us alone." "You need my help." He said firmly.   
"No! Stay away from us. If you come near us again I'll tell Allison's Dad everything!"   
"You'd trust him?"   
"He's a lot nicer than you are!"   
"I'll show you just how nice the Argents are." Derek said.   
Styles realised that Derek was seething. He believed now that they had done something unforgivable. Derek stormed out and Scott followed, a kind of morbid curiosity in his eyes. He wanted to know, they both did, and yet Styles almost didn't want to. That was strange, for him. He'd wanted to find the other half of the body that night in the woods yet he didn't want to know what the Argents had done. Yes, strange.   
"So... You're a werewolf." Styles said as Scott and Derek pulled away.  
She shrugged, "I am therianthropic."   
"What?"   
"Your googling hasn't revealed that?" She asked sweetly. She flicked her hands and he watched claws extend from her fingertips. They were finger length and metallic - definitely couldn't be made from organic material.   
"It has, actually. What animal do you shift to?"   
"Mountain lion."  
"Oh."   
Of course, on hearing there were werewolves a number of possibilities had entered his mind. It was like learning to drive all over again; suddenly so many possibilities were in front of him. He could spontaneously drive to McDonalds at three in the morning and vampires could exist.   
"Surprised?" She asked, leaning on the table. The tip of her claw traced circles in a droplet of Derek's blood.   
"I mean, yeah. I thought you were all like, well, Derek."   
"So you're surprised that I'm a were-lion not that I'm a were-lion."  
"I guess? If that makes any sense."   
"We're not all moody and good-looking with a tragic past. I have one of those in common with Derek, can you guess which?"   
"You're moody."   
"I'm flattered. Derek will be happy to know you find him attractive."  
"Isn't that counter productive to what you want?"   
"What do you think I want, Styles?" She used his name as if she were testing it out. It certainly grabbed his attention.   
"Derek."   
"Because I kissed him once?"   
"Because you want to kiss him again. I can tell."   
She opened her mouth, to deny it he presumed, and then shut it with a helpless shrug. "I came here with an ulterior motive but it's still my life."   
"Mind telling me what that motive is?" He suggested.  
"So you can tell Derek."   
"Yes, because we talk a lot and he doesn't want to rip my throat out."   
She bared her teeth. She wasn't even shifted yet the snarl morphed her face into something animalistic.   
"Okay... Then... Do you have any tips? To help Scott?"   
"Hasn't Derek given you everything you need?"   
"I wouldn't count on it." Styles said.   
"He's not as shifty as he looks, you know."   
Styles raised an eyebrow sceptically.   
"Or sounds... Or acts... Or... You get my point."  
"Not really."   
"Shouldn't you be trying to grease me up for this information."   
"All I've done so far is insult Derek. I didn't think you two were so close." For a moment he thought he had her beaten, but she shrugged and tucked a stand of silvery hair behind her ear.   
"A girl likes to be right."   
"Because that's definitely what that's about..."  
"Shh..."   
"Ha! See?"   
"No, shh."   
He paused. She had her head tilted to one side, her eyes narrowed. He could hear it, a faint banging on the roof.   
"Something supernatural, trying to find a weakness. Are the doors closed?"   
"Yeah. Is it the alpha?"   
"It's an alpha." She smiled wryly. "My one, I do believe."   
"You own an alpha?"   
"He owns me, Styles. The pack bond got a little fucked up."   
She was scared, he realised. It was under control, but just barely. Her smile wavered and she stepped out of the room to the front counter.   
"Ryder, come in." She said, and then leaned on the desk and waited.   
"Are you sure this is a good idea?"   
"No, it's a terrible idea. You should like, hide or something."   
"You know, you and Derek are perfect for each other; both psychotic."   
"I'm aware of-"   
The door was smashed open.   
"Ooh, Scott's boss is gonna-"   
He froze as the thing which had entered the shop stared him down with red eyes. Brooke cleared her throat.  
"Eyes up here, please." She said.  
"Protecting him?" The alpha growled.  
"Oh you know how I...Adore your attention."   
"So much so that you hide in a non-descript place like this?"   
"I wouldn't call it hiding," she said, standing up and placing a hand on her hip. "It was just a holiday from your homicidal tendencies and bad breath."  
Styles realised that in standing she'd put distance between her and the counter. The alpha seemed to have picked up on that and he stepped forwards. The barrier of mountain ash did its job. Brooke barked a laugh when he was thrown back.   
"Remember your promise, Brooke."   
"I haven't forgotten it, I'm simply... Delaying it."  
"I can scent the other alpha here. He is not strong. He will not beat me."   
"You know what I scent? Dead rabbit. Go clean up, I'm not mating a slob."   
"No. You're not." The alpha said. His clawed feet crunched on the shards of wood from the door. His final look at Brooke was hungry and satisfied at the same time. His leap outside was leisurely. This alpha had all the time in the world.   
"Mating?" Styles asked when he was gone.   
Brooke grimaced and shook her head. "My father promised me to his father when the Argents took the pack... I don't know why I just told you that... Shit... I have not more time, I've got to..."   
"Are you... Okay?" Styles asked.   
"No... No I'm..."   
He knew what this was because he could feel the echo of her laboured breathing in his own chest.  
"Panic attack?"   
"No." She hissed, "it can't be... I haven't... For years..."  
"Just breathe. You still have time to calm down."   
"I really don't." She said, clenching her fists and then extending her claws they were so long they went through her hands and yet somehow the pain seemed to help. She took three more deep breaths and then stood up straight. "Don't tell anyone. Not Scott, not Derek... Or I will rip your throat out."   
Her eyes flashed a bright blue and her lip peeled back, revealing razor sharp teeth. She left through the smashed door and he was left wondering exactly who she was.  
Derek's face was expressionless, and that left you searching for expression because no one felt nothing all the time. His blank stare left you searching for the quirk of a brow or the clench of a fist or the bob of his adams apple.   
Brooke's expression was always changing. The constantly shifting planes of her face made finding a pattern impossible; if you knew to look for one in the first place. She seemed to be an open book, her thoughts scrawled across her face in lip gloss and blush. It hid her true thoughts well. She'd coloured over her real feelings and motives in smiles and laughter and it was so nearly perfect.   
So nearly.   
He'd gotten a glimpse of what lay beneath. Something dark. Something deadly.   
-  
Brooke had brought one bag with her, and it contained things she hoped she'd never have to use. Not because she didn't want to kill Ryder but because part of her had hoped that he just wouldn't find her. She slipped into a pair of shorts and a zip up jacket. Easy to remove if she needed to change fully.   
There was no point waiting around for him to find her. She needed to figure out where he was staying and then she needed to rip his throat out.   
All in days work, she decided, shutting and locking the door to her house. She wouldn't be coming back there again. He'd probably already scouted out the safe house. First she would find the alpha she and Derek had been tracking. She was sure she had him now.   
If that failed she'd lead him to the Argents.   
-  
Peter was in the same position she'd left him last time, but his eye flicked to her when she slid through the window.  
"You can stop slouching now." She told him with a smirk. "I'm here to join your pack." He remained still. He remained still for so long she thought she was mistaken.   
Then he blinked twice and said; "and why would a cat want to join with a wolf."   
She went to correct him, but before the word 'lion' could fall from her lips she stopped herself. It would make her seem unsure of herself. Desperate to prove she was strong. She sat down facing him and crossing her legs to show she wouldn't be leaving anytime soon.   
"You don't want anyone else to know you're awake."   
He barked a laugh. His voice was raspy and yet he seemed to know exactly what to say. "They will soon. I would prefer my cover remained just a little longer."   
"That can be arranged."   
"In return for what?"   
"Smart man."   
"It's hardly rocket science. You look behind your shoulder as if you expect someone to come in at any moment."   
"Do you know what happens when an Alpha kills another alpha?" She asked.   
"He gets his pack."   
"And his strength. His speed. His senses."   
"Do you have an alpha in mind?"   
"Now you ask... He's young, inexperienced, but strong."   
"And you want him dead."   
"Yup."   
"Why can't you kill him?" The alpha asked.   
"I'm an underachiever."  
"You know I don't do things for free. I'll need more than your word you'll keep my identity a secret."   
"What do you need?" She asked.   
"A pack."   
"Not with me." She said.  
"Oh? Why not, exactly?"   
"Because I'm a lion. We don't have packs. Not like wolves."  
"Will you bring me Derek?"   
"Hale?"   
"Do you know other werewolves with that name?"   
Brooke shook her head, feeling stupid. "He won't listen to me. I can't guarantee anything."  
Peter considered this. "He doesn't know you're talking to me, does he?"   
Brooke remained silent but for him that was confirmation enough.   
"If you don't bring him into my pack then I'll tell him everything." "You can't do that without revealing your identity." She said.   
"Can't I?"  
He would find a way, she knew, so she nodded.   
"I need to locate the other alpha first."   
"Here." He handed her a slip of paper which she unfolded carefully.   
"What is this?"   
"My phone number, obviously. You were awake when cell phones were invented, weren't you old man?" 

-The Tell-  
Three days. He hadn't seen her in three days and it was beginning to worry him. He knew if she wanted she could disappear without a trace. When Kate arrived at his house he thought perhaps the hunters had found her, unrealistic as that seemed.  
Talking to Kate was difficult, and not only because she had screamed about his sister moments before. Alone the only effect that had was to make him mad. When it was Kates voice, a voice so tied into the events and tangled in his past, it made him livid. It almost scared him.  
He'd been working out when she arrived, and the burn in his muscles was a lot like running. The comfort faded quickly, however and he was left shirtless and glaring at the woman who'd quite literally ruined his life.   
He hadn't loved Kate, he knew this even when they were together. She'd just made herself to easy to talk to, and he'd spoken.   
She left him that day as she always left him. Broken.

-Heart Monitor-  
The hospital stank of anti-septic and chemical perfume, with death underlying it all. Peter's room was no exception and yet, very faintly, he was sure he could scent Brooke. Her scent was aromatic and at odds with the sterile, hospital air. It was definitely there, but right now it didn't matter.  
That was a lie, but the truth could wait.   
Going to Peter was foolish but Derek was out of options. He wanted to save Scott now, and the full moon was closer than ever.  
"I need your help." He told Peter. "If you can hear me, I need you to give me a sign. Blink. Raise a finger. Anything, just... I just need you to point me in the right direction, okay?" No response. No change in expression, no change in pulse. Nothing. He kept talking anyway. "Someone killed Laura. Your niece, Laura. Whoever he is, he's an alpha now... But he's one without a pack, which means he's not as strong. I can take him, but I have to find him first."   
It was getting harder to keep talking. He hadn't thought that talking to Peter and receiving no response would hit him so hard.  
"If you know something just give me a sign... Is he one of us? Did someone else make it out of the fire? Just give me anything. Blink, raise a finger - anything! Say something!" He found himself standing, his arms gripping his uncles chair. Still there was nothing.  
"Let him go!"   
It was nurse. Derek stood, ready to leave. His hands shook.  
"You think after six years of this yelling at him is going to get you a response?"  
"You got a better method?" He asked.   
"Patience. He'll respond if you give him the time."   
He shot Peter one last look. It had been a long shot anyway.   
"I don't have anymore time." He muttered, pushing past her, his head down. He had one more lead and he knew already where he was headed next.   
-  
Brooke could head the howl from her hideout across the town. It wasn't the alpha, either of them, but she had to investigate anyway.   
Wolf howls always chilled her to the bone because she felt them through her entire body. There was no feline/canine rivalry, and yet her instinct to run was almost overpowering. This time she ran towards the howl. She kept her steps light and charted her course across the roof tops. There we no answering howls but she needed only the memory of the sound to guide her to its source.   
The school. She almost laughed at her own stupidity. There stood Scott and Styles, exiting the school. She followed their paths and her eyes fell on Derek.   
Shit. Maybe she should have followed her instincts after all.   
-  
Nothing burned worse than a wolfsbane bullet but the sensation of claws stabbing through his back rendered him helpless. There was only the hot rush of blood down his side as the same substance bubbled up his throat. The ripping of his own flesh as the alpha lifted him higher and then the whoosh of air whistling past his ears as he was air born for a few, short seconds.  
His mind shut down. His body desperately tried to heal.  
Someone poured cold water onto his face.  
It was Brooke, of course. He knew because she didn't so much as flinch when he sprang up, his claws at her throat.   
"The alpha sends his love." She coughed when he let her go.  
"He has a funny way of showing it." Derek said checking his stomach for wounds.  
"They're from an alpha." Brooke reminded him, "you need at least twelve hours."   
"How long has it been?"   
"Three."   
"Great."   
"And you're a fugitive."   
"What?"   
"Scott said it was you in the school - oh, they're alive by the way - and since you already have a terrible track record they brought it."  
He groaned, "great..."   
"Don't worry... I'm... Sort of on the run now too."   
"Why?"   
"There's another alpha in town - and he wants me."   
Derek rubbed his temples. He needed to wake up properly. Her eyes were almost hopeful, sparkling in the half-light. It was as if she were waiting for him to say something.   
Then she tilted her head to one side, considering him and something else he couldn't quite grasp.  
"Goodbye then, I guess."   
"For how long?" He asked. He thought he knew the answer already but he reached out and cupped her face. She leaned into his hand and he could feel her jaw working like she was struggling to hold something back. Then, without another word, she stood and left, shutting the door behind her. He couldn't find the strength to stand and follow her. He couldn't find the willpower to.   
Wetness clung to his fingertips and gingerly he brought it to his mouth and sniffed. The salt of her tears. It was a scent altogether different to her normal one, because it added a layer than he'd never seen in her before. He'd smelt the iron of the blood of others, and the iron of her own. He'd breathed in the scent of her silver claws, meant for killing. He'd watched that innocent smile show its true colours.  
And yet it was the scent of a single teardrop which inspired the most fear in him. 

-Co-captain/Formality-  
It hadn't been hard to become a hunter. She'd shown them her nails and told them they were implants of silver. They'd tested them as well, and gone through her false papers. Apparently they were satisfactory.   
Staying in beacon hills with Derek nearby was dangerous. He'd catch her at some point. Her scent lingering somewhere or a glimpse of her hair disappearing around a corner. She wouldn't be able to leave him if she saw him again, and that would fuck everything up.   
She did her jobs silently, an eye out over her shoulder for him. She didn't have to remind herself to look. He was always on her mind.   
Then she scented him when Kate provided her next briefing and she had to know if he was still alive. She followed the scent right back to his own house and through a tunnel to his basement. She could hear the sound of skin hitting skin and the crackle of electricity.   
She should have stood outside that door for ages and debated what to do. She should have weighed the pros and cons and deliberately left her heart out of it. That's what she'd done her whole life and that's what she should be doing now. She should already be walking away.  
The door wasn't even locked - it didn't need to be. Derek had no pack - no one should be coming to save him. He was tied so tightly he couldn't move, though he tried to shield himself as the punches of the torturer hit him. Brooke felt energy rushing through her arteries as she released pheromones into the air.   
Sleep.   
She urged the man. He was lower than Derek, so he was hit first. She caught him before he hit the ground but was not prepared to look back up into Derek's eyes.   
Logically they were blue. In them she could see a whole sky of opportunities that she was too scared to take. It would be so easy to stand on tiptoe and kiss him. He was straining down towards her already, before he realised just what she was doing there.   
Then he growled. They both knew it wasn't really a warning for her to stay away. He knew already she wouldn't listen.   
He knew she was with the hunters now, she reminded herself. She owed him nothing but a quick slash of the bonds and they could both leave.  
Except she wanted to explain herself.   
Tearing her eyes from his she glanced down and the wires attached to him. It wasn't exactly a better sight, yet it made things easier.   
"The other alpha is closing in. I've been trying since I got here to find someone to kill him for me. I tried Peter but I couldn't trust him. Not after that night at the school... He's mad, Derek. It's impossible to see how much but I can feel it when I look at him. But Ryder needs to die so I came to the hunters and you're here now." She paused and ran her fingers down his chest. "If I free you I loose their support but if I let them keep you here..." She shrugged and then shook her head, trying desperately to pull herself together. "Of course, you know the real reason I can't let you go straight away." she said, voice hardening.  
He flinched when she stepped to the fizzing controls, his only reaction the whole time she'd been there.   
"What are you doing?" He asked finally as she extended her claws and pried the box open.   
"Relax. I'm lowering the voltage. Act like it hurts Derek. Act like it burns." She bared her teeth as she snapped and reattached some of the wires.   
She glanced over at him one last time. She had to go. She had to get as far from beacon hills - from him - as possible, and yet she had to step closer to him one last time.   
She'd taken from him time and time again, without asking, without thinking. Now she stood on tiptoe, tilted her head upwards, and waited.   
-  
He knew what she was waiting for. She was offering herself to him and he knew instead of staring into her eyes he should be demanding she let him out. Yet there they were, silently watching each other. Her lips were slightly puckered. They were cracked now, from sleepless nights and long days with the wind ravaging them. Her lip-gloss was a mere memory.  
His brow furrowed and he pursed his lips. He didn't want to give her what she wanted, not really. Not if it would be the last he ever heard of her. Not if afterwards she'd leave and never return. But she was going to do that anyway he could tell.  
He was on a cliff edge. If he jumped he could fly for just a few short seconds. If he didn't he would regret it.   
He was on a knife edge. Each step along it cut deeper into him and sent his blood running down the metal.  
For a moment, she was Kate, holding a silver dagger, and he was going to impale himself on it.  
But Kate had never given him a choice. Kate had never waited.   
And there Brooke was again. She'd never been shy or willing to back down and yet now she was stepping away. He could see something on her face which he'd never seen on Kates; vulnerability.   
So he leaned closer, ignoring the pull of the chain on his arms, and kissed her on the lips. His teeth were still fangs; he couldn't find the anger in him to make himself human. Not while she was there. She didn't seem to mind, stepping closer and wrapping her arms around him. He wanted to do the same, but he knew why she left him there - she didn't want to be followed. He would be angry at her for that later, when her mouth wasn't pressed against hers and he couldn't feel the things she made him feel.   
It would be a while.   
She pulled away reluctantly, yet her expression was determined. Two small trails of blood ran down either side of her lower lip. He ran his tongue over the two she'd left on him that first night.  
"I hope..." her voice broke and she shook her head. "Goodbye - for real this time."   
"You're going to the alpha." Derek guessed, his heart sinking.   
"He won't hurt me... Not really."   
He knew she wasn't telling him everything but he couldn't find the words to ask. She'd stepped forwards again. He leaned in to catch her mouth but she turned her head away.   
"Here." Her fingertips were glowing and she pressed them to his chest. "It dulls your pain receptors and your body will heal faster."   
She backed out of the room, her eyes still catching his. They flashed as she begun to slide the door shut.   
"See you later." He said, wishing that she could dull the part of him that really hurt.  
It was far too casual, really, for what he was feeling, yet with it came the hope that maybe he'd see her again.

**Author's Note:**

> this fic is my baby fight me  
> (and thank you for reading omg <3)


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